CHAPTER XX.
Lovelier in her own retired abode ....than Naiad by the side Of Grecian brook--or Lady of the Mere Lone sitting by the shores of old romance.
WORDSWORTH.
THE meditations of Ravenswood were of a very mixed complexion. He sawhimself at once in the very dilemma which he had for some time feltapprehensive he might be placed in. The pleasure he felt in Lucy'scompany had indeed approached to fascination, yet it had neveraltogether surmounted his internal reluctance to wed with the daughterof his father's foe; and even in forgiving Sir William Ashton theinjuries which his family had received, and giving him credit for thekind intentions he professed to entertain, he could not bring himself tocontemplate as possible an alliance betwixt their houses. Still, he feltthat Alice poke truth, and that his honour now required he shouldtake an instant leave of Ravenswood Castle, or become a suitor of LucyAshton. The possibility of being rejected, too, should he make advancesto her wealthy and powerful father--to sue for the hand of an Ashton andbe refused--this were a consummation too disgraceful. "I wish her well,"he said to himself, "and for her sake I forgive the injuries her fatherhas done to my house; but I will never--no, never see her more!"
With one bitter pang he adopted this resolution, just as he came towhere two paths parted: the one to the Mermaiden's Fountain, where heknew Lucy waited him, the other leading to the castle by another andmore circuitous road. He paused an instant when about to take the latterpath, thinking what apology he should make for conduct which must needsseem extraordinary, and had just muttered to himself, "Sudden news fromEdinburgh--any pretext will serve; only let me dally no longer here,"when young Henry came flying up to him, half out of breath: "Master,Master you must give Lucy your arm back to the castle, for I cannot giveher mine; for Norman is waiting for me, and I am to go with him to makehis ring-walk, and I would not stay away for a gold Jacobus; and Lucy isafraid to walk home alone, though all the wild nowt have been shot, andso you must come away directly."
Betwixt two scales equally loaded, a feather's weight will turn thescale. "It is impossible for me to leave the young lady in the woodalone," said Ravenswood; "to see her once more can be of littleconsequence, after the frequent meetings we have had. I ought, too, incourtesy, to apprise her of my intention to quit the castle."
And having thus satisfied himself that he was taking not only a wise,but an absolutely necessary, step, he took the path to the fatalfountain. Henry no sooner saw him on the way to join his sister than hewas off like lightning in another direction, to enjoy the society of theforester in their congenial pursuits. Ravenswood, not allowing himselfto give a second thought to the propriety of his own conduct, walkedwith a quick step towards the stream, where he found Lucy seated aloneby the ruin.
She sate upon one of the disjointed stones of the ancient fountain,and seemed to watch the progress of its current, as it bubbled forth todaylight, in gay and sparkling profusion, from under the shadow of theribbed and darksome vault, with which veneration, or perhaps remorse,had canopied its source. To a superstitious eye, Lucy Ashton, folded inher plaided mantle, with her long hair, escaping partly from the snoodand falling upon her silver neck, might have suggested the idea ofthe murdered Nymph of the fountain. But Ravenswood only saw a femaleexquisitely beautiful, and rendered yet more so in his eyes--howcould it be otherwise?--by the consciousness that she had placed heraffections on him. As he gazed on her, he felt his fixed resolutionmelting like wax in the sun, and hastened, therefore, from hisconcealment in the neighbouring thicket. She saluted him, but did notarise from the stone on which she was seated.
"My madcap brother," she said, "has left me, but I expect him back ina few minutes; for, fortunately, as anything pleases him for a minute,nothing has charms for him much longer."
Ravenswood did not feel the power of informing Lucy that her brothermeditated a distant excursion, and would not return in haste. He satehimself down on the grass, at some little distance from Miss Ashton, andboth were silent for a short space.
"I like this spot," said Lucy at length, as if she found the silenceembarrassing; "the bubbling murmur of the clear fountain, the waving ofthe trees, the profusion of grass and wild-flowers that rise among theruins, make it like a scene in romance. I think, too, I have heard it isa spot connected with the legendary lore which I love so well."
"It has been thought," answered Ravenswood, "a fatal spot to my family;and I have some reason to term it so, for it was here I first saw MissAshton and it is here I must take my leave of her for ever."
The blood, which the first part of this speech called into Lucy'scheeks, was speedily expelled by its conclusion.
"To take leave of us, Master!" she exclaimed; "what can have happenedto hurry you away? I know Alice hates--I mean dislikes my father; andI hardly understood her humour to-day, it was so mysterious. But Iam certain my father is sincerely grateful for the high service yourendered us. Let me hope that, having won your friendship hardly, weshall not lose it lightly."
"Lose it, Miss Ashton!" said the Master of Ravenswood. "No; wherever myfortune calls me--whatever she inflicts upon me--it is your friend--yoursincere friend, who acts or suffers. But there is a fate on me, and Imust go, or I shall add the ruin of others to my own."
"Yet do not go from us, Master," said Lucy; and she laid her hand,in all simplicity and kindness, upon the skirt of his cloak, as if todetain him. "You shall not part from us. My father is powerful, he hasfriends that are more so than himself; do not go till you see what hisgratitude will do for you. Believe me, he is already labouring in yourbehalf with the council."
"It may be so," said the Master, proudly; "yet it is not to your father,Miss Ashton, but to my own exertions, that I ought to owe success in thecareer on which I am about to enter. My preparations are already made--asword and a cloak, and a bold heart and a determined hand."
Lucy covered her face her hands, and the tears, in spite of her, forcedtheir way between her fingers.
"Forgive me," said Ravenswood, taking her right hand, which, afterslight resistance, she yielded to him, still continuing to shade herface with the left--"I am too rude--too rough--too intractable to dealwith any being so soft and gentle as you are. Forget that so stern avision has crossed your path of life; and let me pursue mine, sure thatI can meet with no worse misfortune after the moment it divides me fromyour side."
Lucy wept on, but her tears were less bitter. Each attempt which theMaster made to explain his purpose of departure only proved a newevidence of his desire to stay; until, at length, instead of bidding herfarewell, he gave his faith to her for ever, and received her trothin return. The whole passed so suddenly, and arose so much out of theimmediate impulse of the moment, that ere the Master of Ravenswood couldreflect upon the consequences of the step which he had taken, theirlips, as well as their hands, had pledged the sincerity of theiraffection.
"And now," he said, after a moment's consideration, "it is fit I shouldspeak to Sir William Ashton he must know of our engagement. Ravenswoodmust not seem to dwell under his roof to solicit clandestinely theaffections of his daughter."
"You would not speak to my father on the subject?" said Lucy,doubtingly; and then added more warmly: "Oh do not--do not! Let your lotin life be determined--your station and purpose ascertained, before youaddress my father. I am sure he loves you--I think he will consent; butthen my mother----!"
She paused, ashamed to express the doubt she felt how far her fatherdared to form any positive resolution on this most important subjectwithout the consent of his lady.
"Your mother, my Lucy!" replied Ravenswood. "She is of the house ofDouglas, a house that has intermarried with mine even when its gloryand power were at the highest; what could your mother object to myalliance?"
"I did not say object," said Lucy; "but she is jealous of her rights,and may claim a mother's title to be consulted in the first instance."
"Be it so," replied Ravenswood. "London is distant, but a letter willreach it and receiv
e an answer within a fortnight; I will not press onthe Lord Keeper for an instant reply to my proposal."
"But," hesitated Lucy, "were it not better to wait--to wait a few weeks?Were my mother to see you--to know you, I am sure she would approve;but you are unacquainted personally, and the ancient feud between thefamilies----"
Ravenswood fixed upon her his keen dark eyes, as if he was desirous ofpenetrating into her very soul.
"Lucy," he said, "I have sacrificed to you projects of vengeance longnursed, and sworn to with ceremonies little better than heathen--Isacrificed them to your image, ere I knew the worth which itrepresented. In the evening which succeeded my poor father's funeral, Icut a lock from my hair, and, as it consumed in the fire, I swore thatmy rage and revenge should pursue his enemies, until they shrivelledbefore me like that scorched-up symbol of annihilation."
"It was a deadly sin," said Lucy, turning pale, "to make a vow sofatal."
"I acknowledge it," said Ravenswood, "and it had been a worse crimeto keep it. It was for your sake that I abjured these purposes ofvengeance, though I scarce knew that such was the argument by which Iwas conquered, until I saw you once more, and became conscious of theinfluence you possessed over me."
"And why do you now," said Lucy, "recall sentiments soterrible--sentiments so inconsistent with those you profess for me--withthose your importunity has prevailed on me to acknowledge?"
"Because," said her lover, "I would impress on you the price at which Ihave bought your love--the right I have to expect your constancy. Isay not that I have bartered for it the honour of my house, its lastremaining possession but though I say it not, and think it not, Icannot conceal from myself that the world may do both."
"If such are your sentiments," said Lucy, "you have played a cruel gamewith me. But it is not too late to give it over: take back the faith andtroth which you could not plight to me without suffering abatement ofhonour--let what is passed be as if it had not been--forget me; I willendeavour to forget myself."
"You do me injustice," said the Master of Ravenswood--"by all Ihold true and honourable, you do me the extremity of injustice; if Imentioned the price at which I have bought your love, it is only to showhow much I prize it, to bind our engagement by a still firmer tie, andto show, by what I have done to attain this station in your regard, howmuch I must suffer should you ever break your faith."
"And why, Ravenswood," answered Lucy, "should you think that possible?Why should you urge me with even the mention of infidelity? Is itbecause I ask you to delay applying to my father for a little space oftime? Bind me by what vows you please; if vows are unnecessary tosecure constancy, they may yet prevent suspicion." Ravenswood pleaded,apologised, and even kneeled, to appease her displeasure; and Lucy, asplacable as she was single-hearted, readily forgave the offence whichhis doubts had implied. The dispute thus agitated, however, ended by thelovers going through an emblematic ceremony of their troth-plight, ofwhich the vulgar still preserve some traces. They broke betwixt themthe thin broad-piece of gold which Alice had refused to receive fromRavenswood.
"And never shall this leave my bosom," said Lucy, as she hung the pieceof gold round her neck, and concealed it with her handkerchief, "untilyou, Edgar Ravenswood, ask me to resign it to you; and, while I wear it,never shall that heart acknowledge another love than yours."
With like protestations, Ravenswood placed his portion of the coinopposite to his heart. And now, at length, it struck them that time hadhurried fast on during this interview, and their absence at the castlewould be subject of remark, if not of alarm. As they arose to leave thefountain which had been witness of their mutual engagement, an arrowwhistled through the air, and struck a raven perched on the sere branchof an old oak, near to where they had been seated. The bird fluttered afew yards and dropped at the feet of Lucy, whose dress was stained withsome spots of its blood.
Miss Ashton was much alarmed, and Ravenswood, surprised and angry,looked everywhere for the marksman, who had given them a proof of hisskill as little expected as desired. He was not long of discoveringhimself, being no other than Henry Ashton, who came running up with acrossbow in his hand.
"I knew I should startle you," he said; "and do you know, you looked sobusy that I hoped it would have fallen souse on your heads before youwere aware of it. What was the Master saying to you, Lucy?"
"I was telling your sister what an idle lad you were, keeping us waitinghere for you so long," said Ravenswood, to save Lucy's confusion.
"Waiting for me! Why, I told you to see Lucy home, and that I was to goto make the ring-walk with old Norman in the Hayberry thicket, and youmay be sure that would take a good hour, and we have all the deer'smarks and furnishes got, while you were sitting here with Lucy, like alazy loon."
"Well, well, Mr. Henry," said Ravenswood; "but let us see how you willanswer to me for killing the raven. Do you know, the ravens are allunder the protection of the Lords of Ravenswood, and to kill one intheir presence is such bad luck that it deserves the stab?"
"And that's what Norman said," replied the boy; "he came as far withme as within a flight-shot of you, and he said he never saw a raven sitstill so near living folk, and he wished it might be for good luck, forthe raven is one of the wildest birds that flies, unless it be a tameone; and so I crept on and on, till I was within threescore yards ofhim, and then whiz went the bolt, and there he lies, faith! Was it notwell shot? and, I dare say, I have not shot in a crossbow!--not tentimes, maybe."
"Admirably shot, indeed," said Ravenswood; "and you will be a finemarksman if you practise hard."
"And that's what Norman says," answered the boy; "but I am sure it isnot my fault if I do not practise enough; for, of free will, I would dolittle else, only my father and tutor are angry sometimes, and only MissLucy there gives herself airs about my being busy, for all she cansit idle by a well-side the whole day, when she has a handsome younggentleman to prate with. I have known her do so twenty times, if youwill believe me."
The boy looked at his sister as he spoke, and, in the midst of hismischievous chatter, had the sense to see that he was really inflictingpain upon her, though without being able to comprehend the cause or theamount.
"Come now, Lucy," he said, "don't greet; and if I have said anythingbeside the mark, I'll deny it again; and what does the Master ofRavenswood care if you had a hundred sweethearts? so ne'er put finger inyour eye about it."
The Master of Ravenswood was, for the moment, scarce satisfied with whathe heard; yet his good sense naturally regarded it as the chatter of aspoilt boy, who strove to mortify his sister in the point which seemedmost accessible for the time. But, although of a temper equally slow inreceiving impressions and obstinate in retaining them, the prattleof Henry served to nourish in his mind some vague suspicion that hispresent engagement might only end in his being exposed, like a conqueredenemy in a Roman triumph, a captive attendant on the car of a victor whomeditated only the satiating his pride at the expense of thevanquished. There was, we repeat it, no real ground whatever for suchan apprehension, nor could he be said seriously to entertain such for amoment. Indeed, it was impossible to look at the clear blue eye ofLucy Ashton, and entertain the slightest permanent doubt concerningthe sincerity of her disposition. Still, however, conscious pride andconscious poverty combined to render a mind suspicious which in morefortunate circumstances would have been a stranger to that as well as toevery other meanness.
They reached the castle, where Sir William Ashton, who had been alarmedby the length of their stay, met them in the hall.
"Had Lucy," he said, "been in any other company than that of one who hadshown he had so complete power of protecting her, he confessed he shouldhave been very uneasy, and would have despatched persons in quest ofthem. But, in the company of the Master of Ravenswood, he knew hisdaughter had nothing to dread." Lucy commenced some apology for theirlong delay, but, conscience-struck, becames confused as she proceeded;and when Ravenswood, coming to her assistance, endeavoured to render theexplanation complet
e and satisfactory, he only involved himself in thesame disorder, like one who, endeavouring to extricate his companionfrom a slough, entangles himself in the same tenacious swamp. It cannotbe supposed that the confusion of the two youthful lovers escaped theobservation of the subtle lawyer, accustomed, by habit and profession,to trace human nature through all her windings. But it was not hispresent policy to take any notice of what he observed. He desired tohold the Master of Ravenswood bound, but wished that he himself shouldremain free; and it did not occur to him that his plan might be defeatedby Lucy's returning the passion which he hoped she might inspire. Ifshe should adopt some romantic feelings towards Ravenswood, in whichcircumstances, or the positive and absolute opposition of Lady Ashton,might render it unadvisable to indulge her, the Lord Keeper conceivedthey might be easily superseded and annulled by a journey to Edinburgh,or even to London, a new set of Brussels lace, and the soft whispers ofhalf a dozen lovers, anxious to replace him whom it was convenient sheshould renounce. This was his provision for the worst view of the case.But, according to its more probable issue, any passing favours shemight entertain for the Master of Ravenswood might require encouragementrather than repression.
This seemed the more likely, as he had that very morning, since theirdeparture from the castle, received a letter, the contents of which hehastened to communicate to Ravenswood. A foot-post had arrived witha packet to the Lord Keeper from that friend whom we have alreadymentioned, who was labouring hard underhand to consolidate a band ofpatriots, at the head of whom stood Sir William's greatest terror, theactive and ambitious Marquis of A----. The success of this convenientfriend had been such, that he had obtained from Sir William, not indeeda directly favourable answer, but certainly a most patient hearing. Thishe had reported to his principal, who had replied by the ancient Frenchadage, "Chateau qui parle, et femme qui ecoute, l'un et l'autre va serendre." A statesman who hears you propose a change of measures withoutreply was, according to the Marquis's opinion, in the situation of thefortress which parleys and the lady who listens, and he resolved topress the siege of the Lord Keeper.
The packet, therefore, contained a letter from his friend and ally,and another from himself, to the Lord Keeper, frankly offering anunceremonious visit. They were crossing the country to go to thesouthward; the roads were indifferent; the accommodation of the innsas execrable as possible; the Lord Keeper had been long acquaintedintimately with one of his correspondents, and, though more slightlyknown to the Marquis, had yet enough of his lordship's acquaintance torender the visit sufficiently natural, and to shut the mouths of thosewho might be disposed to impute it to a political intrigue. He instantlyaccepted the offered visit, determined, however, that he would notpledge himself an inch farther for the furtherance of their views thanREASON (by which he meant his own self-interest) should plainly pointout to him as proper.
Two circumstances particularly delighted him--the presence ofRavenswood, and the absence of his own lady. By having the former underhis roof, he conceived he might be able to quash all such hazardous andhostile proceedings as he might otherwise have been engaged in, underthe patronage of the Marquis; and Lucy, he foresaw, would make, for hisimmediate purpose of delay and procrastination, a much better mistressof his family than her mother, who would, he was sure, in some shapeor other, contrive to disconcert his political schemes by her proud andimplacable temper.
His anxious solicitations that the Master would stay to receivehis kinsman, were, of course, readily complied with, since theeclaircissement which had taken place at the Mermaiden's Fountainhad removed all wish for sudden departure. Lucy and Lockhard, had,therefore, orders to provide all things necessary in their differentdepartments, for receiving the expected guests with a pomp and displayof luxury very uncommon in Scotland at that remote period.